“Do you see him?” Kel asked as he pulled himself up into the boat.
Riley shook her head, her stomach feeling like a ball of lead. “I haven’t seen him since he hit the water.”
Kel nodded in the direction of his men. “Quinn, Seth.”
They didn’t have to be told twice. Both men immediately stopped assisting their victims and strapped on their scuba gear. They were just positioning themselves to enter the water when the quiet of the lake was shaken by a thunderous explosion. Flaming debris from the speedboat flew everywhere, some of it landing within feet of their location.
Riley’s scream mixed in with several others as Quinn and Seth lowered themselves into the water.
Kel’s voice was calm but firm when he spoke to them. “The houseboat’s going next. Don’t take any chances.”
Both men nodded and submerged beneath the surface. The boy’s mother was wailing, and the sound echoed through Riley’s head. Riley tried to fight against the hysteria bubbling up inside her, but it was a losing battle. Her face was pale, her fingers gripping the rail tightly. Riley wanted to close her eyes against the flames, but somehow her body wouldn’t cooperate. She didn’t think she could face the blankness her life would hold if Tristan didn’t survive, but a corner of her mind considered the possibility. Each second felt like an eternity as her mind raced. Tristan had to be okay. He just had to.
Wordlessly, Amy stepped up beside her and draped a towel around her shoulders. She rested a hand on Riley’s back for a moment and then stepped back and left her alone.
Riley could feel herself slipping. The tears were welling up in her eyes, but she couldn’t stop staring at the water. Flames and smoke plumed from where the speedboat had been moments ago, burning on the water’s surface where fuel had leaked. She could only watch in horror as the flames spread to the houseboat and a second explosion became imminent.
She was only vaguely aware of the movement behind her as Brent shared the rest of their towels with the victims. The sound of another boat approaching vibrated through the air, but Riley didn’t look. She gripped the ends of the towel tighter around her shoulders and continued her silent prayers.
11
Tristan broke the surface of the water just a few yards from the side of the rented boat that was now crowded with people. The boy’s head bobbed up with him, the boy still obediently plugging his nose so that he could breathe comfortably through Tristan’s secondary mouthpiece. The kid had been beyond brave when Tristan had found him below deck, standing on a table so that he could keep his head above the rising water.
Tristan had explained that they were going to breathe the air in his tank, and they were going to have go deeper in the water so that they could get by the speedboat safely. The boy had obeyed his instructions, pinching his nose with his fingers to make up for the fact that he didn’t have a mask to prevent him from breathing in water.
Aware that going deeper than about fifteen feet could cause major problems for the boy, Tristan had been forced to put some distance between them and the damaged boats before starting to head for their own vessel. The force of the explosion from the speedboat had scared the kid, but thankfully he had been able to regulate his breathing quickly, and he seemed to be doing okay so far.
Quinn and Seth had spotted him once he had finally been able to head in the right direction. Using hand signals, they had told him of the imminent danger from the houseboat, and all of them had stayed submerged until out of range.
Kel’s voice sounded out when he spotted them. “Grab on!”
Tristan didn’t hesitate. He stroked to the side of the boat and grabbed on to the back ladder with one hand while still gripping the boy securely with the other. The moment Quinn and Seth grabbed on, the boat’s engine revved and they started moving away from the houseboat. Not thirty seconds later, the sound of wood shattering echoed through the stillness. Flaming debris flew up into the sky and started raining down onto the lake’s surface.
The boat slowed, and Tristan looked up into Riley’s damp eyes. Her skin was pale, her body was shivering, and relief was written all over her face.
Quinn nudged Tristan, urging him to climb aboard once Kel lifted the boy up onto the deck. Tristan climbed out of the water and quickly unstrapped his tank. He took a step toward Riley but was stopped by the boy’s father.
“Thank you. Thank you so much.” The man’s voice was hoarse with emotion as he reached out to shake Tristan’s hand. His other hand rested on his son’s head.
The mother was sobbing, clinging to her son tightly. “I was so worried!”
“It’s okay, Mama. I’m okay,” the boy said bravely as he stared up at Tristan with a healthy case of hero worship.
“That’s a brave boy you’ve got there,” Tristan said, nodding at the parents and winking at the boy. He turned and stepped toward Riley, his eyes widening when she threw herself into his arms. He drew her close, burying his head in her hair. She shivered, but he couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or pure emotion.
In his mind he replayed the moments below deck on the doomed boat. Never before had anyone crowded his mind so much that he had to fight against distraction. Even as he searched for the boy, he had been counting down the seconds that it would take for Riley and Amy to move a safe distance away. When he found the child, he’d had to fight to push aside concern for Riley and concentrate on the job he had to do.
Tristan pulled back and looked down at her, oblivious to the rescue cutter that had pulled up beside them. His overwhelming concern for her was a new sensation, leaving him feeling unsteady. When the frigid temperature of her skin registered to his already cold fingers, he rubbed his hands up and down her arms. “Let’s get you warmed up.”
Riley didn’t object as he led her to a seat and nudged her into it. He sat beside her, cradling her head to his chest as rescue personnel began evacuating the accident victims to their vessel and taking a statement from Kel. Even when some questions were directed to Tristan, he stayed at Riley’s side.
“Good job, everyone,” Kel finally said as he moved to take the wheel.
“It sure was inspired we picked today to come to the lake,” Tristan commented.
“That’s for sure,” Quinn agreed.
Kel nodded. “Is anyone still up for a dive?”
“Yeah, I could go down again,” Seth said.
“Me too,” said Quinn.
Tristan just shook his head, looking over at Brent, who had also decided to stay topside. As Brent and Amy settled into the back of the boat and the others started their dive, Tristan leaned back so that he could see Riley more clearly. “Are you okay?”
“I am now.” Her voice was still a bit shaky, but her eyes were finally dry. She glanced back at Amy and spoke softly. “I don’t know how Amy stays so cool. She didn’t say anything when Brent swam over to that speedboat, even though she knew it was going to explode any minute. She could have been widowed right then, and she just accepted it.”
“Amy’s been with us for a while. She knows we’ve been trained for situations like this,” Tristan explained. “I know she was worried about Brent, but she loves him for who he is. She understands that it’s difficult for all of us to separate who we are from what we do. Part of our job is risking our lives for others.”
Riley remained silent.
“I guess I never realized how lucky Brent and Amy really are.”
“How so?”
“Brent and Amy met when she was a hostage and we were sent in to bring her and the others with her home. Brent saved her life. I’m sure she has a better understanding than most people of how critical our jobs are and how much of our lives are dedicated to helping others.” Tristan gave a shrug. “It’s not really any different from someone who’s a firefighter or a policeman, or even a member of the Coast Guard.”
“Except they can probably talk about their work a lot more than you can.”
“Maybe.” Tristan shrugged. He linked his fingers with hers, his e
xpression growing serious. “You know, I was worried about you too.”
“But I was never in any real danger.”
“Sure you were,” Tristan insisted. “When you and Amy dropped me by the houseboat, if the other boat had exploded right then, you would have been more at risk than any of us, because this boat could have gone up with it.”
“But we were out of range within a few seconds.”
“Those were the longest few seconds of my life.” His eyes met hers, and he continued to stare, willing her to understand the depth of his feelings. Slowly, he closed the distance between them until he could touch his lips to hers. The chill of the water evaporated between them, and the relief they both felt poured into the kiss. When Tristan pulled back, his voice was barely more than a whisper. “I don’t know what to do about these feelings I have for you. You’re starting to scare me.”
Riley swallowed hard. “I’m too numb to think right now, but I don’t think I’ve ever felt more relieved than when I saw you come up out of the water.”
Tristan slowly nodded in understanding. Whatever he felt, she was feeling it too.
* * *
Riley felt cold eyes gazing down at her—eyes that were so dark they looked black. The expression of the face matched the eyes, remote and unfeeling. The hand gripped the gun handle, flexing as the man lifted it and aimed. Shouts, screams, the repetitive sound of gunshots. The air thick with death and pain.
Riley just stared, searching for something in the gunman’s face that would explain why. What had they done to him to cause such anger? Why them? She turned to see another classmate fall, and then she saw him. Tristan sat two desks down. He reached for the gun holstered beneath his pant leg, but it was too late. Another gun was already pointing at him.
She sat up with a gasp, her heart pounding as she clutched her bedspread. “It’s not real,” Riley whispered to herself, grappling to turn on the bedside lamp. With the warm light glowing beside her, she tried to separate the dream from reality. “It’s not real,” she whispered again. “It’s not real.”
She hugged her knees to her chest, searching the room for anything out of place. Her sandals were still lying haphazardly beside the door where she had stepped out of them. Her floor was strewn with clothes she had started to sort into laundry piles but hadn’t gotten around to washing yet. She took a deep breath and then another as her pulse started to slow.
The gentle knock on her door sent her heart racing once more, and her head jerked up as Taylor pushed the door open. “Are you okay?”
Riley shut her eyes and nodded.
Taylor wavered by the door, looking uncertain as to whether she should go or stay. She finally stepped into the room and sat at the foot of her sister’s bed. “It sounded like a bad one,” she said quietly.
“Yeah.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Riley gave a shuddering sigh. “It was a lot like the other ones.” She rested her chin on her knees and made herself look at her sister. “It’s like I can’t stop reliving the memories.”
“What was different this time?”
Riley sat up a little straighter. “What makes you ask that?”
“I don’t know. It’s just been a while since you had one of these nightmares, and I can’t remember the last time it was bad enough that you had to turn on the light.”
She closed her eyes, forcing herself to confide in her sister. “Tristan was in it. It was like he traded places with one of the students who died. He was trying to reach for his gun, trying to fight back, but he was too late.”
“You’re going to have to tell him,” Taylor said softly. “It’s time you stop feeling guilty for surviving that day when so many didn’t.”
“I know.” Resignation hung in her voice. “Maybe I’ll see if he wants to come over one night without everyone else. I think it would be easier to tell him here where I feel safe.”
“Just let me know when, and I’ll make myself scarce.” Taylor pushed herself off the bed and moved to the door. “I’m really glad you found Tristan. He’s a great guy.”
Riley’s eyes flooded as Taylor disappeared into the hallway. Her stomach felt hollow as she remembered the long minutes that she had waited for Tristan to come to the surface of the lake, the long minutes after the explosion when she hadn’t known if he was dead or alive. She hadn’t known anything could scare her more than the massacre, but the thought of losing Tristan had terrified her to the point of consuming her.
It was a different kind of terror. It hadn’t been the complete shock of trying to understand the horror going on around her. Instead, it had been a fear that had penetrated her entire being. She had known from the moment Tristan had stepped into the water that he might not survive the day, and she hadn’t been able to see past that fear no matter how hard she tried.
Knowing that she needed help to get through the night, Riley turned to her Heavenly Father. Still dealing with the childish fear that something, or someone, might be beneath her bed, she didn’t slide down onto her knees like she knew she should. Instead, she folded her arms and bowed her head right where she sat in the middle of her bed. She wasn’t even sure what to ask for, but she found herself expressing her gratitude for the miracles she had witnessed that day. Not only had Tristan been returned to her safe and whole, but he had also been in the right place to save that little boy.
She hesitated, recognition dawning in that moment. They had been the answer to that mother’s prayers. Had they not come across the boaters right when they did, her precious little boy wouldn’t be alive right now. As Riley ended her prayer, warmth poured through her.
With a glance over at the lamp, she pulled her covers up around her and gradually fell asleep with the light still glowing beside her bed.
12
The club was already crowded when Philip passed through the restaurant and made his way to the back room. A mountain of a man was standing guard, but he stepped aside to let Philip enter. Philip supposed he should be pleased with the VIP treatment, but he knew it was just another sign of his weakness. Logically, he understood that his gambling had become an obsession, but he couldn’t seem to stay away.
He stepped inside and saw the others who were trapped by the same disease. The room was windowless, but bright lights hung overhead, and the interior looked like a small version of a Las Vegas casino, minus the slot machines. People who came here to gamble were way past nickels and dimes. The blackjack dealer nearest him flipped over his hole card, then paid out to one of the three men at his table and collected from the other two.
A waitress distributed drinks at one of the many poker tables before returning to the bar that occupied the far corner of the room. Philip watched her take more orders as one of the owners stepped up beside him.
“I didn’t expect to see you tonight.” The man’s voice was low and smooth and much too familiar. “I thought we had come to an agreement that you needed to cover at least half of your debt before you started up again.”
Philip pulled a thick envelope out of his jacket pocket and held it out. “I brought you a down payment on that. I was hoping you would give me a chance to make up some of my losses.”
The man took the envelope and fanned through the cash inside with his fingertips. “I suppose we can spot you another ten thousand or so.”
“I appreciate it.” Philip’s palms started to sweat with anticipation.
“You know the penalty for not paying me back.”
“Yeah, I know.” Dread settled in Philip’s stomach, but he pushed it aside and let himself get pulled into the dreams of what could be. One lucky night was all he needed to recover his losses and start winning his life back from the traps created under these bright lights.
* * *
Riley sat at the long conference table and forced herself not to squirm. The entire Saint Squad sat on one side of the table, and several members of the governor’s task force sat opposite them. Though she was technically part of the task fo
rce, for today Riley had aligned herself with the SEALs and found herself grateful to be sitting between Tristan and Quinn.
She was not surprised to see Chad Mallard, the man who had been chosen to head up the response task force, along with Howard Groman and Norman Henley, who had both spent a significant amount of time analyzing the “what ifs” of the Oswell Barron massacre. The unexpected guest was Victor Cross, one of the local police officers she had met after the shooting. Though Victor was at least fifteen years older than Riley, his baby face and clean-cut appearance made him look like he was still in his twenties. Riley imagined that his youthful appearance and boyish good looks came in handy when he was working undercover near campus.
Chad glanced over the basic course outline Amy had prepared for this meeting and then looked up, clearly confused. “This is just a list of course objectives and a schedule of training locations. Why didn’t you provide the exercise details?”
“That information remains classified,” Kel said simply. “The class participants can’t know what the scenario is beforehand or this training won’t work.”
“Surely we have clearance for that information.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but that isn’t the way we work. If you don’t have a need to know, you don’t get to know.” Kel’s bluntness caused the older man to stiffen. “However, we would be happy to have you come and observe any of the exercises next week.”
Chad turned to Riley. “I understand the university’s drama department is providing the volunteers you need for the training scenarios.”
Riley nodded.
“I see.” Chad clenched his jaw and turned back to look at Kel. “Let me get this straight. You’re giving information to a bunch of drama students, but you won’t give it to us.”
Kel shook his head. “Not at all, sir. The drama students have only been given instructions on how the exercises will work. Everyone will be equipped with a laser vest that will beep if it takes a hit from one of our modified weapons.”
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